What do these prestigious universities -- Harvard, Johns Hopkins, Cornell, MIT and Columbia -- have in common and wish they didn't?

All of them have a deep commitment to achieving demonstrable gender diversity within their own academic institutions -- and all of them have failed. "For many women at Hopkins, career success and satisfaction remain elusive," Johns Hopkins administrators wrote in the university's Vision 2020 Report in November 2006.

Why is it still so very difficult for women in academia to crack that metaphorical glass ceiling?

Today, the issue is no longer a lack of interest or commitment from the top. Deans publicly promote gender diversity. Colleges spend valuable resources studying ways to create lasting changes. Women now run four of the eight Ivy League universities. Yet as the Johns Hopkins University study recently found, "though there have been genuine attempts to address gender disparities, they have not endured."

One of the roadblocks to creating a natural and permanent integration of women into upper management is inherent in the very nature of diversity itself. We tout the value of diversity without ever admitting what creates that value, the "differences" we bring together. We can't even discuss the issue.

Men are terrified that any reference to our differences will result in discrimination lawsuits. Women are terrified that any reference to differences will result in stereotyping.

Ironically, one of the major differences that needs to be recognized and addressed is the manner in which men and women tend to communicate -- from the words we use to patterns of speech, to body language, we often speak and hear a very different message.

And perhaps one of the most ubiquitous manifestations of these differences is in the workplace. One of the primary reasons women don't get the top jobs in academia or elsewhere is because we don't fight for them. We don't even know how to fight for them.

As long as women believe the world is a meritocracy, we're going to find ourselves inadequately rewarded.

Men understand that the farther you go, the fewer positions there are -- and the more competitors. If you want to become a full professor, if you want to be a dean, you need to do more than a good job. You need to ask for the job and campaign for the position; in other words, you need to manage your career as well as you manage your work.

Women do not understand this intuitively; men do.

Fortunately, women are totally competent and capable of competing with men for these jobs once they are aware of the nature of the competition. What most women lack is not the skills to compete, but the training.

Every major university, and all graduate schools, should offer substantive courses in "managing your career." We are not talking about traditional management courses that teach collaboration, authenticity and the art of listening. These are the skills men need to learn; they come naturally to women.

Women need to learn the opposing skills -- courses that train women how to get out of their offices, onto the boss's radar screen and into the pipeline for promotion. Women need first to understand why it's critical to manage our careers. Then we need to learn how to do it.

Offer courses that teach women how to toot their own horn subtlety and effectively, and why it's an appropriate and important skill to have. Teach women how to project boardroom presence in the way we move, stand, dress and speak. Teach women how to ask for what we want, directly, forcefully and successfully.

These are the skills that come naturally to men, and give them such a competitive advantage.

Universities have one of the best answers to increasing the numbers as well as the career satisfaction of their top-ranked women, right in their own backyards. Training and education -- the very reason universities exist -- can offer a successful solution.

Trent Kittleman and Joan Athen are principals of GenderStrategy and can be reached at trent@genderstrategy.com and joan@genderstrategy.com.